✨️ happy evil author day ✨️
snippet from the durmstrang au i will maybe hopefully finish someday
“Legilimens,” she verbally casts, opening her eyes to find herself in the Hogwarts Head Dorms. She recognizes it immediately after having spent a year of her life hiding away, avoiding a certain Gryffindor Golden Boy.
Tom sits on a deep green armchair, watching as she experimentally wanders through his mind. Her fingers hover above a bookshelf, a small smile gracing her features at the knowledge that they had organized their thoughts in much the same way. Curiously, she pulls a book from the shelf, throwing herself into the infirmary as Madam Pomfrey looks on. Tom wraps his arms around a crying Marietta Edgecombe, an angry bout of boils formed along her forehead. Marietta looks up at him with puppy-dog eyes. The scene flashes to St. Mungo’s as Marietta desperately seeks a cure for the jinx that scarred her years later, unable to be concealed even by the strongest glamor.
Tom looks at the young woman with a face of inimitable pity and compassion. Above Marietta’s eyebrows is written the word SNEAK.
He reaches forward in his white hospital robe. With a push Hermione is back in the office, staring him down in disbelief.
“That was you, wasn’t it?” His expression is neutral, non-accusing. “She never did say what she did to earn it. May I?”
Tom wordlessly enters her thoughts. She sits in her favorite chair, in her favorite corner of the library. He steps toward the shelf with an ease that causes her to grit her teeth. He pulls a book from the shelf and they are in the Ravenclaw dorm room. Hermione holds a pillow to her chest, cheeks pink as Marietta kicks her feet over the edge of the bed.
“Viktor kissed me,” Hermione admits, burying her face in the pillow. Marietta lets out a little squeal, the flash of jealousy in her eyes unhidden in memory. “You must promise you won’t tell a soul.”
“Of course not,” Marietta lies, holding out a pinky. “I swear!”
Hermione and Tom stand by the Black Lake. She peers from behind a tree that she had hidden behind to finish her charms reading. A group of girls walk by, giggling about how all the naughty things that Miss Hermione Granger had done in order to secure herself a Yule Ball date.
“Did you?” Tom’s voice echoes through her head. She feels him searching and pushes him out, slamming the door in his face.
“That was uncalled for,” Hermione scolds, feeling her pulse quickening, breathing becoming ragged. Her chest feels tight.
“You’ll need more than a potion,” Tom observes, face expressionless. “You suffer from a panic disorder, don’t you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It is very much my business.”
“You knew what I meant,” she huffs, her chair scraping against the hardwood as she abruptly stands. “I’m going for a walk, I’m sick of having you inside of me.”
“It’s been a pleasure,” Tom smirks, and her cheeks redden at her accidental innuendo. She slams the door behind her, breathing quickly through her nose.
Her fingers itch for a potion she will not find. Tom did not allow her to take the vial, suggesting (or, rather, demanding) that she come to the infirmary each time she required a dose. He knew that she needed it, that fucker. He knew exactly what he was doing.
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The Peacock Who Loved Me: Part One (The Begining) by cassiopeia_xafod - M, WIP - It begins with a literal shock, a life-changing encounter in Draco and Hermione’s third year at Hogwarts that sets off a chain reaction in Draco's world, challenging him to question the beliefs he's been spoon-fed since childhood and forcing him to confront uncomfortable truths about loyalty, power, and purity. But it's not all existential crises and dark revelations; there's also avian adversaries. What would have happened if Draco and the other children of Voldemort’s followers didn’t follow in their parents footsteps. As they plan their rebellion, Draco is distracted by his own personal drama: a budding rivalry with a concerningly meddlesome peacock. Armed with insider knowledge and connections to the darker corners of the wizarding world, Draco faces a choice: to use his powers for good or destruction. It’s a journey of self-discovery, humour, and the realisation that change is not only possible but necessary.
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